


Fire and Ice

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M, Starfleet Academy AU, i mighta written this while half asleep but no worries my grammar's good enough not to have suffered, i won't let it, possibly ooc? i’m so sorry, though there's no accounting for judgement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: But then Archer’s kissing him, hard, and oh yes, now he really is breathless, not that he minds it much now.





	Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a sucker for college AUs and, in the case of Star Trek, Academy AUs. So I figured, why not write one?
> 
> Wrote this in an evening whilst half asleep. I started with the ending, then halfway through that realized that the “thermostat fight” would be perfect for them due to differing body temperatures, and thus, it turned into this. I think I’ve given up worrying over whether it’s in-character or not; I always worry, and I’m usually fine. Though, of course, if my characterisation is lacking in any way, tips are always appreciated (and, indeed, welcomed)
> 
> Also, uncreative title is uncreative

It might be a little dramatic, not to mention exaggerating more than just slightly, to say that a wave of heat washes over him the moment he steps into his dorm room, but Shran’s saying it anyway. Even before the door has swished shut behind him, he’s turning to the temperature controls and dialing it down a few degrees.

“Don’t touch that.”

He glances up to meet the annoyed gaze of his roommate, who’s sitting at his desk, chair swiveled around to face him.

“I just turned that up,” Archer says, though the discarded sweater at the end of the man’s bed closest to the desk says otherwise.

Shran raises an eyebrow as he reaches up to undo the fastenings of the stuffy Academy uniform. “ _You_ can always put on more layers, pinkskin, but there are only so many _I_ can take off.”

He’s only just managed to slip off the uniform jacket and toss it toward the foot of his bed when his roommate’s suddenly on his feet and slamming him back against the wall.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Archer growls, and Shran would thrill more at finally having pushed the normally gentle Archer to snapping if he weren’t so distracted by the fire in those green eyes.

“Then make me, _pinkskin_ ,” he says almost breathlessly, and far less commanding than he would have liked.

But then Archer’s kissing him, hard, and oh yes, now he really is breathless, not that he minds it much now. His hands run over strong shoulders, following up the column of Archer’s neck to wind his fingers tightly into short hair, pulling him closer; thinking, _finally_. The heat of Archer’s body bracketing him against the wall is almost too much, especially since the AC hasn’t kicked in yet, but somehow, he can’t get enough of it. An antenna reaches out almost instinctively to card through short, brown bangs—an intimate gesture that part of him hopes Archer recognizes.

They break apart then, and Archer’s just as breathless as he is, Shran notes with a measure of satisfaction. He finds himself staring into warm green eyes for a long moment, the fire in them having died down to little more than a candle flame but still there nonetheless, his roommate seeming uncertain but still steadfast. Neither pulls away.

He sucks in a breath, says: “This is much more agreeable than merely glaring at each other, wouldn’t you say?”

Archer answers him not with words but with another searing kiss, a hand slipping under his shirt to fit a warm palm over cool skin at his side, sending a shiver down his spine despite the heat. Shran capitulates only too easily.


End file.
